


Hallelujah

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-06
Updated: 2012-10-06
Packaged: 2017-11-15 18:33:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin and Bradley are having a good old harmless nostalge, when <em>those</em> memories surface…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hallelujah

**Author's Note:**

> So it'll be obvious which song (written by Leonard Cohen) I was listening to in the car this morning…

♦

Even if there was going to be a sixth season after all, there was no denying that change was in the air, that various people were moving on, that there was a sense of an era ending even if there were new beginnings waiting beyond the horizon.

In just such a mood one evening, and with enough beer and whiskey inside them to feel maudlin, Colin and Bradley were sitting sprawled on Colin’s sofa, listening to Colin’s music on shuffle. There were comfortable silences and there were shared memories, old jokes, replayed banter. There was plenty of _D’you remember when..._ though they never even approached _Those_ Memories. They didn’t even circle around them.

 _D’you remember when..._ Colin offered with a rueful laugh, ‘that lake was so fucking freezing I thought my balls would never drop again…’ 

Bradley chimed in with the opposite problem: ‘that sun was so hot I thought the chainmail would burn griddle marks into my skin…’

Colin added a high to counter the lows: ‘that awesome moment when Arthur finally sat on Uther’s throne…’

Bradley tilted his head to eye Colin for a moment. ‘You weren’t in that scene.’

‘I snuck over to watch.’

‘Yeah?’ Bradley settled again, contemplating this for a long moment.

‘I loved seeing you take on that authority,’ Colin told him.

Bradley just huffed in reply, as if still trying to even comprehend. Eventually he said, ‘I thought that was the sort of thing _I_ did.’

Colin shifted, not moving from where he sat but turning so that he could see Bradley. Curling up towards him. ‘Did you…?’ he murmured. ‘You came over to watch me sometimes?’

‘Well –’ Bradley glanced towards him, but then seemed to change his mind about what he was going to say. ‘Well, we certainly have a nice little nostalge going on here, don’t we?’

‘Aye,’ Colin answered, though it had been the most rhetorical of questions. ‘Aye,’ he whispered, nonsensical but wanting to feel that connection, even if it was simply via sound waves rippling through the air and into Bradley’s ears, falling in beats on his eardrums. ‘Aye, we do…’

Which was when the perfect song began. _Thank you… Dear God, thank you…_ Colin sent up a prayer as the poignant notes of Jeff Buckley’s _Hallelujah_ felt their tentative way into the room, into the space he was sharing with Bradley. Colin listened, humming along with the melody every now and then to prompt Bradley to listen, too, while carefully watching the man. A tiny frown had appeared between Bradley’s brows, as if he were thinking hard.

Finally, as the perfect verse drew near, Colin reached out to gently take Bradley’s hand in his own. And then he sang along, low and rough.

> There was a time when you let me know  
>  What’s really going on below  
>  But now you never show that to me, do ya?

> But remember when I moved in you  
>  And the holy dove was moving, too  
>  And every breath we drew was ‘Hallelujah’…?

Bradley had turned and was considering him just as closely as Colin was watching Bradley. Colin let the song continue on without him. Finally Bradley said, his voice as rough as Colin’s, ‘I remember.’

‘That was really something,’ Colin said. Which was entirely inadequate, but how was he supposed to find the words for the sheer _awe_ he’d felt as he’d looked down at Bradley, as he’d moved within Bradley, as Bradley had moved with him, as – yes – as Colin had felt so transported, his heart so transformed that the holy dove might as well have been beating its wings within his chest, strong and steady and sure.

Maybe he should have tried to find the words, though, for Bradley’s mouth twisted in displeasure, and the man looked away. ‘Really something, yeah,’ he echoed faintly.

‘Why d’we let it end?’ Colin was foolish enough to ask, shaking at Bradley’s hand to regain his attention.

 _‘We?!’_ Bradley turned back to him, excessively irritated now. ‘That was _your_ decision –’

‘You didn’t exactly argue –’

‘What was the point? You said you always knew, one way or another, after two months. You’d said all along –’

‘You could have _told_ me that was bollocks!’

‘Why, when you’d warned me from the start –?’

‘By the time I figured it out –’

‘Fuck’s sake!’ Bradley exclaimed, looking surprised. Had he not realised that Colin knew he’d made a mistake?

‘But by _that_ time,’ Colin continued remorselessly – ‘which wasn’t very long, by the way – you’d already taken up with Georgia –’

‘Oh, don’t you _dare_ bring her into this!’

‘Why the fuck not? You couldn’t have made it clearer –’

‘Made _what_ clearer?’

‘That you didn’t want me!’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Colin. Don’t. Just _don’t_. Georgia’s a good person.’

‘Well –’

‘She’s a _good_ person. It should have worked out fine.’

‘But –’

Bradley turned to look at him directly, with those wide blue sky eyes. ‘But she _wasn’t you_ , all right?’ After a moment, he repeated quietly, ‘She wasn’t you.’

Colin looked down at where their hands had remained linked together throughout all that. He thought maybe he should feel as if he’d won, as if they’d both won. Instead he felt rather epically stupid, and ashamed. He reached for the remote with his free hand, and turned off the music. There’d been another song playing. The wrong song. But now the silence seemed to echo with unspoken words, unsung lyrics, unfelt emotions.

‘Well,’ said Bradley, pushing to sit up a little straighter. ‘It’s late, I should –’

‘No, don’t go,’ Colin said quickly, his voice thick.

‘Colin –’

‘I want – Bradley. I think I want to – No, I do.’ He dared to look up at Bradley. ‘I  _do_. I want to try again.’

‘We can’t,’ the man said, as if it were final.

‘I was wrong, all right?’ Colin pleaded. ‘I shouldn’t have ended it. What we had was –’

‘– was like in the song,’ Bradley agreed, nodding. He took his hand away. ‘It was just like in the song. But we can’t have that again.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because that was all about trust. Wasn’t it,’ he said, hard. ‘ _God_ , I trusted you with _everything_. And since then – Well. I can’t trust you like that. Not any more.’

The pain took Colin’s breath away, even though he knew he deserved it. When he could speak again, he asked with quiet diffidence, ‘How can I earn that back again, d’you think…?’

‘You can’t,’ was the short reply.

But after a while… After a while of Bradley sitting there, sitting up straight, and not leaving… After a while of Colin curled up beside him with his head bent in penitence… After a while, Bradley’s hand found Colin’s again, and took him in a strong grasp – and Colin clung on as if for life itself.

Which was as good as true, really. It was true. A love like this _was_ life. Colin confessed in a babble, ‘I’ve never felt like that with anyone else. Not before. Not after.’

And Bradley said, ‘Me, neither.’ He added, ‘Should have.’

‘I know,’ Colin agreed, with an emphatic nod. And his last little remnant of bitterness about Georgia finally floated free and dissolved away.

Bradley said, ‘Don’t expect – Not right away. Might take a while.’

‘I know,’ Colin said again, his grip as firm and sure as Bradley’s now. ‘I know. I’ll keep the faith.’

And Bradley turned to him at last. ‘Then so will I.’

♦


End file.
